Daughters of the Silk Road: A beautiful and epic novel of family, love and the secrets of a Ming Vase by Debbie Rix
Authors: Debbie Rix
Ads: Link
blue sky from a chimney.
‘It looks nice,’ Maria said encouragingly. ‘Maybe they do get people better there…’
‘It looks like a prison,’ said Daniele darkly.
Their father Niccolò joined them.
‘So, Maria – are you packed and ready?’ His voice was brisk and light, always positive.
‘Yes, Papa…’
‘You were sick last night… Are you feeling better this morning?’ He sounded calm and cheerful, as he always tried to do, but she could sense the anxiety behind the question.
‘Yes, Papa; I have told Daniele. I am fine. It was nothing, really.’
‘Good.’
Marco called for the sails to be lowered. The ship would be rowed to its final docking position at Malamocco. The family stood gazing out at the city wrapped around the lagoon.
‘It must be hard for you, Papa – thinking of Mamma and all that we had to leave behind in Egypt.’
‘Yes.’ Niccolò said nothing more, but took his daughter’s face in his large hands and kissed her forehead. ‘But having you and Daniele here with me now is a huge joy. I am glad to be back. I am tired. My travelling days are over. Our first task is to find lodgings and a place for our merchandise to be stored. Now come, children, come to the prow and I will show you your new home.’
‘And how does it feel, Papa,’ said Maria, tucking her arm through her father’s, ‘to see your Venice again after all this time?’
‘It is wonderful. It is the most beautiful city in the world. And after all these years, and all that has happened, now that I smell the sea in the lagoon and watch as the morning sun glints on the roof of San Marco, it is as if I had never left.’
Chapter Five
Castello, Venice, 1441
T he house that Niccolò found for the family was in the district of Castello, east of the Piazza San Marco, site of the Doge’s Palace and the Cathedral. Although it was just minutes away from the religious and administrative heart of the city on its western boundary, Castello spread eastwards out towards the lagoon. It was the first point of contact for anyone arriving by sea and its mixture of industry and commerce, alongside inhabitants from many nations, lent the area a bustling, cosmopolitan atmosphere, in contrast to its regal, more straight-laced neighbour.
On its northern boundary was the area known as the Arsenale, which for hundreds of years, had been the heart of the Venetian naval industry – supplying boats, ropes and munitions. The yard spread across one hundred and ten acres and was divided into separate areas, each producing different elements of the ships, which were then finally assembled in as little as one day. The thousands of Arsenaletti , as the workers were described, lived cheek-by-jowl with their workplace in a jumble of houses that rose up out of the waters of the lagoon. A little to the south and west of the Arsenale, in an area called Riva degli Schiavoni, lived settlers from Greece and the Dalmatian coast. They were predominantly fishermen and sold their dried fish and meat along the edge of the lagoon. Merchants from Turkey, northern Europe and North Africa lived alongside their Greek and Slav counterparts selling their wares.
Niccolò settled his family on the western edge of Castello. The house was less expensive than if it had been in the San Marco district, but close to the Doge’s palace and the Rialto Bridge. And if he missed life in the Middle East, he was just a few minutes’ walk from a cosmopolitan hubbub of people that reminded him of his time in Damascus.
Their house fronted onto a canal called the Rio dei Greci and was arranged over four floors. There was a serviceable kitchen and a dining hall; a large reception room that ran the length of the house, a study at the back for Niccolò, bedrooms overlooking the canal for the family, and at the top of the house, rooms for their servants. A cook, Alfreda, was appointed, who was helped in the kitchen and around the house by a maid called Bella who, at eighteen,
‘It looks nice,’ Maria said encouragingly. ‘Maybe they do get people better there…’
‘It looks like a prison,’ said Daniele darkly.
Their father Niccolò joined them.
‘So, Maria – are you packed and ready?’ His voice was brisk and light, always positive.
‘Yes, Papa…’
‘You were sick last night… Are you feeling better this morning?’ He sounded calm and cheerful, as he always tried to do, but she could sense the anxiety behind the question.
‘Yes, Papa; I have told Daniele. I am fine. It was nothing, really.’
‘Good.’
Marco called for the sails to be lowered. The ship would be rowed to its final docking position at Malamocco. The family stood gazing out at the city wrapped around the lagoon.
‘It must be hard for you, Papa – thinking of Mamma and all that we had to leave behind in Egypt.’
‘Yes.’ Niccolò said nothing more, but took his daughter’s face in his large hands and kissed her forehead. ‘But having you and Daniele here with me now is a huge joy. I am glad to be back. I am tired. My travelling days are over. Our first task is to find lodgings and a place for our merchandise to be stored. Now come, children, come to the prow and I will show you your new home.’
‘And how does it feel, Papa,’ said Maria, tucking her arm through her father’s, ‘to see your Venice again after all this time?’
‘It is wonderful. It is the most beautiful city in the world. And after all these years, and all that has happened, now that I smell the sea in the lagoon and watch as the morning sun glints on the roof of San Marco, it is as if I had never left.’
Chapter Five
Castello, Venice, 1441
T he house that Niccolò found for the family was in the district of Castello, east of the Piazza San Marco, site of the Doge’s Palace and the Cathedral. Although it was just minutes away from the religious and administrative heart of the city on its western boundary, Castello spread eastwards out towards the lagoon. It was the first point of contact for anyone arriving by sea and its mixture of industry and commerce, alongside inhabitants from many nations, lent the area a bustling, cosmopolitan atmosphere, in contrast to its regal, more straight-laced neighbour.
On its northern boundary was the area known as the Arsenale, which for hundreds of years, had been the heart of the Venetian naval industry – supplying boats, ropes and munitions. The yard spread across one hundred and ten acres and was divided into separate areas, each producing different elements of the ships, which were then finally assembled in as little as one day. The thousands of Arsenaletti , as the workers were described, lived cheek-by-jowl with their workplace in a jumble of houses that rose up out of the waters of the lagoon. A little to the south and west of the Arsenale, in an area called Riva degli Schiavoni, lived settlers from Greece and the Dalmatian coast. They were predominantly fishermen and sold their dried fish and meat along the edge of the lagoon. Merchants from Turkey, northern Europe and North Africa lived alongside their Greek and Slav counterparts selling their wares.
Niccolò settled his family on the western edge of Castello. The house was less expensive than if it had been in the San Marco district, but close to the Doge’s palace and the Rialto Bridge. And if he missed life in the Middle East, he was just a few minutes’ walk from a cosmopolitan hubbub of people that reminded him of his time in Damascus.
Their house fronted onto a canal called the Rio dei Greci and was arranged over four floors. There was a serviceable kitchen and a dining hall; a large reception room that ran the length of the house, a study at the back for Niccolò, bedrooms overlooking the canal for the family, and at the top of the house, rooms for their servants. A cook, Alfreda, was appointed, who was helped in the kitchen and around the house by a maid called Bella who, at eighteen,
Similar Books
